


Perfect Temperature

by orphan_account



Series: Johnlock Oneshots [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Cuties, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, i just really love Johnlock, movie date, theres no specific time to where this takes place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:45:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: AU- Wherever you're born in in the world, you're immune to the extremest of that places weather.John was born in Canada, Sherlock in Italy during a heat wave in the summer. As fate made it so, each found their desired roles in 221B.What will they do to stay warm?What will they do to stay cool?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is my attempt for writing smut, in a long time anyway. Thank you for reading and taking time to leave kudos, comments, or bookmarking this if you do! It absolutely makes my day!

John was born in Canada, but had moved to Britain for both of his parents jobs when he was little. Being a happy and calm child, John got used to the plane rides and constant trips from Britain to Canada and vice versa. The cold, nipping weather never bothered him, and always made him feel quite content.

Sherlock was born early in Italy. While his parents were on vacation there, during an absurdly hot summer, Sherlock demanded to be sprouted into the new world. Getting accustomed to the heat wave that struck Italy that summer, Sherlock preferred the heat and often found it able to help him think better.

  
As fate had made it so, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes found their desired roles in 221B Baker Street. Sherlock stood in the kitchen, busily rummaging through cupboards looking for god-knows what, and John, sitting on the sofa watching the brunet do so. A smile played onto his cheeks as he stood up and tiptoed onto the tiled floor. His hands curved their way onto and around Sherlock's hips and his chin rested on Sherlock's shoulder, now slouched and relaxed from the touch.

"How about we go somewhere tonight?" John asked, his voice soothing over Sherlock's restless nerves.

"Where too?"

' _So full of questions..._ ' John thought.

"Can't I surprise you?" John asked in a slightly more innocent tone. His lips made their way to Sherlock's back, kissing him through his shirt's fabric.

"Hmmm," Sherlock hummed as he spun around in John's grip. He touched their noses together and place a sweet, gentle kiss on the shorter man. Sherlock's eyes fluttered back open and locked with John's, "Just this once."

John smiled and quickly pecked the detective on the corner of his mouth before shimming out of the kitchen. Sherlock leaned against the counter and watched John as he did so, a sweet grin engraved on his lips.

-

"Alright so, what did you think?" John asked as the couple exited the darkened theater and were brought back into the dim red cinema  lights.

"I think it's hilarious that you took me to see a movie about space John. On top of that, you hope that I have some sort of witty commentary to go along with it."

"Well do you?" John asked, throwing away his drink and popcorn.

"Of course I do, don't be ridiculous." Sherlock turned to flash a smile at John. "The storm that sets of the whole plot off, was way too blow out of proportion. There is no logical way a storm that big would of started in the first place. The atmospheric pressure of Mars is so low that the wind is negligible. And the part where he actually leaves Mars? Total luck."

John and Sherlock stayed planted by the cinema doors discussing the movie. Sherlock's hand extended for the door and he was immediately met with ice cold metal. He swallowed hard and a look of shear uncertainty covered his face. John noticed this, cocking an eyebrows and glazing once again over the detective's expression. His hand mimicked Sherlock's actions and he was met with the same cold, except calming to him. He started to smile, an evilish grin.

"Are you afraid of the cold, Sherlock?"

"No, not afraid. More, uncomfortable." He stated, his hand swiftly moving from the door to his pocket.

Earlier that day, the British weather had been clear with the occasional gust of peaceful wind. Now, 2 hours later, the nipping cold was trying to naw its way onto Sherlock's spine. His attire didn't help either. He settled for a regular shirt with his usual coat and some loosely fitted jeans, an outfit he found himself in regularly since John and him had become a thing.

Sherlock decided to fasten his jacket up all the way and flipped up the collar to keep as much skin warm as he could. John laughed at Sherlock's attempts to warm himself up, it was quite cute. The pair opened the metal doors, Sherlock bracing for the cold nights impact.

The air quickly surrounded the detective and he skipped out the doors in a hurry. His eyes darted around trying to find a cabby, but he didn't dare lift this hand from his warm and secure place inside of this coat pocket. John laughed again, his jacket flapping open in the nights breeze. Sherlock turned and huffed at him, he could feel tiny needles piercing his cheeks, turning them pink from both embarrassment and coldness.

"Would you like to borrow my jacket?" John asked as they waited.

"No, I'm okay. Plus, I don't want you to catch a cold even if you are bloodly immune to this deathly cold weather." Sherlock said.

John smiled and snaked his hand into Sherlock's pocket. Their hands laced into each other and Sherlock started to feel a little better about the weather.

The whole ride home, Sherlock seemed to be in a rock-like state. His arms never separated from his side and his hands never left his pockets, except to open the cabs doors. He ran inside quicker than he usually did and left John to fend for himself in the cold.

Once inside the flat, Sherlock ran to the thermostat in the hall. He quickly pushed and held the up arrow on the machine, not caring about the bill they'd later have to pay for. John walked in and smiled again at Sherlock's actions. He would never understand why a scientist like Sherlock would choose hot over cold in this case.

John removed his coat and sat on the sofa, waiting for Sherlock to eventually do the same. Sherlock did and nestled himself into John, who seemed like a heater himself.

' _Maybe this is why he can stand the cold,_ ' Sherlock thought. ' _It's because he's his own fireplace._ '

After a while of snuggling, Sherlock found the room's temperature slowly start to rise. So did John, and not to John's liking. A bead of sweat worked its way from John's forehead, down his back, and disappearing into his shirt material. He started to fan himself with his shirt, fluffing it out to mimic that of a breeze.

"It's getting really hot in here, Sher." John said, his voice sounding a little concerned.

"Hmmm, I know." Sherlock said, nuzzling further into John's side. He opened his eyes and saw John, flustered. "Would you like some assistance?"

John looked down at Sherlock, now smiling devilishly. John nodded his head and felt Sherlock's fingers slide under the bottom of his shirt. Peeling the fabric off, John sighed at the release from his cotton cage. Sherlock started to fiddle with John's belt, undoing it and slipping it off, tossing it to the floor with John's shirt. Sherlock leaned up and started to peck tiny kisses onto John's jaw, his hands finding their way to John's hair. Soon, their mouths met, the kiss elevating from compassionate to hungry. John pulled off Sherlock's shirt and moved forward, pressing the detective's back into the sofa cushion.

A small whimper from the back of Sherlock's throat vibrated in their kiss as John's hands ghosted over Sherlock's, now very tight, jeans. Shedding both men of their remaining clothes, they began slowly grinding against each other.

" _Sherlock_ -"

John moaned as Sherlock's hand dived from John's neck to his hard length. Wrapping it in his hand, the detective started to pump up and down, earning many noises from John. Sherlock brought John to the edge, but John pulled away. He lowered himself, leaving wet kisses down Sherlock's neck, chest, and hips. Sherlock bit his lip to hold back a moan from John. The blond kissed the tip of Sherlock cock before taking it into his mouth.

"Oh my- _John_."

Sherlock moaned as John took more of him in his mouth. Slowly bobbing his head, John started a steady rhythm. His eyes only focused on Sherlock, who's back was arched and head dug into the sofa's pillows. Sherlock's moans added to John's arousal, starting to make the needy well in his abdomen buzz.

"John-I'm close, ah-"

John pulled away swiftly, leaving a now whimpering Sherlock on the sofa. John smiled and walked away from the sofa and down the hall, darting into Sherlock's room. Sherlock smiled to himself, he knew where this was going.

The blond reappeared, but not before changing the temperature on the thermostat to a nice, cooling temperature. A single silver condom flapped from John's fingertips as he entered the room again. Sherlock raised onto both of his elbows as he watched John resume his previous position. Sherlock gave John a questioning look as he spread Sherlock's legs apart. John's head dove down and his tongue met with Sherlock's tight pink hole. Sherlock immediately threw his head back in pure ecstasy and moaned John's name like it was the best thing on the planet, which it was.

John stuck two fingers out and Sherlock obediently sucked on them, whirling his tongue down and around the digits. John smiled as his eyes met Sherlock's succulent yet dismantled expressions. Pulling his fingers away from Sherlock, his index finger replaced his tongue that was gently massaging the muscle and teasingly wiggling its way inside. John took Sherlock's wild moans as the cue that he was ready. The blond stuck his index finger inside of Sherlock, pulling it out again and repeating his actions. A second joined and Sherlock became an uncontrollable, panting mess.

"John I _need_ \- you!" Sherlock groaned while his fingers entangled themselves in John's hair.

John didn't hesitate and opened the silver package, slipping in on himself and positioning at Sherlock's hole. He pushed inside, earning a delicious moan from Sherlock as he filled him.

"Move!" Sherlock exclaimed.

John started a rhythmic thrust, searching for that spot that'd make the detective completely loose it. He lifted one of Sherlock's legs onto his shoulder and hit it, from what he could tell. Sherlock's mouth made an 'o' as he did so, letting John know to hit it that spot again and again and again.

"Touch yourself, Love. Please."

Sherlock's hand wrapped around his cock, now pulsating with the need to be touched. Sherlock timed his strokes with John's thrusts. It wasn't long before Sherlock noticed the sudden drop in room temperature. Goosebumps shot down his spine and scattered themselves across his body like broken glass on hard floors. He sucked in a sharp breath as he felt himself climax just then. Tightening himself, he heard John follow.

They collapsed into each other, both men a panting mess. John pulled out and tried to get up to throw the plastic away, until a pair of arms extended, grabbing him down as if he was a blanket.

"Sherlock I need-"

"No John," He replied. "It's absolutely freezing."

John stayed for a while before suggesting, "let's cuddle in bed under the soft, warm blankets."

Sherlock pouted but shook his head in agreement. John got up and tossed the used condom into the trash, taking Sherlock by the hand to the downstairs bedroom. Before entering the room, Sherlock smiled and tiptoed over to the thermostat. He checked to see if John was looking, which he wasn't, before upping the temperature. He marveled at his devious work before prancing into the room like he was innocent of all crimes. Snuggling under the covers and nuzzling into each other, the couple soon started to have heavy eyes.

In a sleepy tone John asked Sherlock, "Did you touch the thermostat?"

"Most definitely," Sherlock replied, half open eyes on John.

John let out a small chuckle and sleepily kissed Sherlock, knowing that he probably missed the detectives mouth. His eyes fully closed and he fell asleep to the sound of Sherlock breathing, steady and happy.


End file.
